The House of the Rising Sun

There is a house in New Orleans

They call the Rising Sun

And it's been the ruin

Of many a poor boy

And God, I know I'm one

There's a tailor

she sold blue jeans. My father was a gamblin' man down in New Orleans. Now the only thing

gambling is is a suitcase and a trunk and the only time he was satisfied is when he's on a drunk

Oh mother, tell your children not to do what I have done, spend your life in sincere misery

In the house of the rising sun

On the platform

Of the foot on the train

I had to New Orleans

To wear that ball and chain

I was in New Orleans

That car with the rising sun

And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy

And God, I know I'm one